


Animal Magnetism

by EvilDime



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: BDSM, Blood and Torture, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Consensual Kink, Crossover, How has no one done this before??, M/M, Mesmerism, Top Erik, disregarding RL and canon science, disregarding timelines, seriously: Metal-controlling mutant and guy with a metal arm?, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-17 05:37:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8132392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilDime/pseuds/EvilDime
Summary: Instead of Apocalypse, the Winter Soldier interrupts Erik's revenge killing spree.





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I've been playing with the timelines again... But, well, it's the X-Men. Not respecting established timelines or realities is basically MCU canon, right? :P So the Apocalypse story line is going down several decades late. I imagine them both to be around the same apparent age for this meeting. ; )
> 
> First three lines are a direct Apocalypse movie quote.

_"Some of you spoke to the police about what you believe you witnessed here yesterday. You want to know my powers. Know who I am. See what I can do. Think of the person you love most in your life. Now that person will know what it is to lose someone they love."_

_"Henryk, please don't do this!"_

_"My name isn't Henryk. My name is Magneto."_

He angrily blinked the tears from his eyes. Erik had once been teary-eyed when he hurt Charles. Henryk  had cried for his family when they died. But he was turning his back on that life now. He was Magneto, and Magneto showed weakness to no one. Nor did he show mercy to the ones who destroyed what he had built. Them, with their petty little mistrust, their stupid traitorous yabbering mouths. 

_Them._

He raised his hands, and metal began to rattle all around the hall.

_SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAACH!_

Wait.

That was the main gate. He had closed that with his powers, and it was _not_ supposed to be forced open while he was conducting his vengeance. 

Magneto turned around slowly, holding all the men in the hall in check with a floating scrap of metal at each and every throat. His concentration on those scraps never wavered while he faced the newcomer who had torn apart the gate.

A metal arm appeared first, forcing the gate with seeming ease. Then the killer attached to that arm came on through. There was no other word for him: he was outfitted in heavy combat boots, a kevlar west and sturdy jeans. A mask covered most of his face, with darkened goggles hiding his eyes from view. Shaggy, wild hair completed the look of unrestrained, wild brutality. About a ton of weapons were stored all over his person. 

"Wait," the stranger said in rough, accented Polish,  tearing off the mask and goggles.  The face didn't look any less crazy and intimidating without them, if a bit more human. 

"For what?" Erik asked, focusing on the arm and finding, to his delight, that it was indeed made of metal.

"I claim this one," the killer said,  metal hand  pointing at one of the workers. 

Erik turned around to see where he pointed, stepping aside a little to keep the stranger in his peripheral vision as he did. The man was indicating Jakub, who had turned white and seemed to fear this stranger more than he feared Erik's pointy metal scrap. Interesting. 

While Erik watched, Jakub seemed to visibly gather his wits about him and started slowly and deliberately speaking  in  Russian: "Желание. Ржaвый. Семнадцать. ..."

"Enough!" the metal-armed stranger roared and jumped forward. Batting  Erik's  floating shiv out of the way, his arm took hold of Jakub's throat and strangled the flow of Russian. Glancing back over his shoulder at Erik, he grumbled something -  also in Russian.

"I'm sorry," Erik said politely, unsure what to make of the man, "could you repeat that in Polish? Or English, if you prefer. But I don't speak Russian."

"I apologize," the man barked in Russian-accented English. "He triggered... Anyway. I need him dead. If I read  this stand-off correctly, you were about to slice the throats of all these men,  correct?" Not waiting for an answer, he continued. "I hope you do  not  mind then if I make sure personally that this one here ends up very dead indeed.  After I've asked him a few questions."

The man in his grasp was turning purple as he spoke.

Erik frowned. What could a mine worker possibly have done to deserve death by this killer? "I don't mind,  exactly," he said slowly, "but may I ask you why?"

Grim satisfaction settled on the stranger's face for a moment. "He had it coming."

Then he turned his back on Erik and barked a stream of angry German at his victim, letting go of the man's throat briefly. Jakub gasped for breath, his eyes nearly popping out in fear. He choked out some garbled words in reply. The stranger hit him, then asked  the questions he apparently very much needed answered. Again, Jakub only  gave  a brief and presumably unsatisfactory reply. 

Erik could follow the man's words easily, but they made as little sense to him as his deeds. What was the significance of a 'chair'? Why rip out Jakub's molars? And why so many questions about poisonous spiders, and about Captain America, of all things? The man had crashed in the ice before Erik even broke free of the Concentration Camp, and as far as Erik was aware, that was that.

The torture that followed was quick, to the point and not pretty. Erik held the other men in the hall still as the stranger took Jakub apart. By the end of it, several of them had soiled their shirts, having puked all over themselves for fear of beheading by scrap metal should they bend over.

The stranger, however, was the image of cold fury as his victim remained frustratingly uncooperative. "H-hail... Hy-hy-," was all that would bubble out of Jakub's destroyed mouth anymore. 

"Scheiß Nazi," the stranger cursed and appeared to be finally giving up. He glanced at Erik. "You know where this one lives?" he asked, still in German and not seeming to notice.

"I do," Erik answered in the same language. He hadn't spoken it in a while, but  it sounded barely rusty at all. He frowned. "But I am not comfortable with letting you butcher his family."

The stranger waved that aside. "I don't care to hurt them. They are not Hydra. But I think  some of  the information I seek may be in his house, and if you would take me there, we could finish up here. I assume you have other things to do, as well."

"Actually, I don't," Erik said, for the first time thinking beyond avenging his family's murder.

The stranger  raised an unexpectedly expressive eyebrow. 

"I had a life here," Erik elaborated, needing to tell his story, and never mind the tears shooting back into his eyes.  He chose to speak in Polish  to let everyone know of his pain.  "I thought I'd finally managed to evade my curse. I found love, I got married, I had a beautiful, gifted little daughter. I  was content."

His eyes glowed with rekindled anger as he turned them on the men still watching them both. "Then I used my powers to save a life, and in return,  _they murdered my family!!!_ " 

Everyone flinched, even the stranger.

"That's rough, buddy," the man said, suddenly in very American English.

Erik reined in his anger again, still not sure what to make of this man." So I decided to kill everyone in return. My best friend had convinced me, so many years ago, that killing everyone is not the answer and that I am not  _ born _ to be a killer. For a while, I wanted to believe him - and look how well that turned out  for me. ...You do not seem to believe in pacifism, either," he  noted off-hand, now also in English. 

"I used to be a soldier," the stranger conceded. "Fought the Germans in the damn war. But then I bumped into Hydra." He spat the name like a curse, and Erik couldn't blame him. He'd only heard rumours of the organization, but if even a part of those had been true, well. 

"Evil Nazi scientists," the stranger elaborated, not seeming to expect Erik to have heard of Hydra. "They captured me, experimented on me; brainwashed me and turned me into  their mindless  weapon. Which they pointed at innocent and not-so-innocent victims. I don't know all of it, since they  _ wiped my fucking mind _ after each mission, but it's slowly coming back now. I loathe what they have done to me. They need to pay!" He twisted Jakub's head to emphasize his point, the neck snapping with an audible  _ crack. _

"I hear you," Erik said. He was appalled and fascinated at the casual  murder and the  man's  story in equal parts. "I know all about evil Nazis forcing you to use your powers to do their bidding."

The stranger stood up from where he'd been crouched over his victim to fully face Erik. "I've never seen you before. Were you also a victim of Hydra?"

Erik laughed incredulously. "You never heard of me, really? 'Magneto' does not ring any bells?"

The stranger  frowned. "I only ever got out on missions, and I haven't broken free of their hold that long ago. I am sadly behind on current  events."

Erik barked a little startled laugh. "Actually, so am I. I lived with my wife and daughter in a beautiful little house in the woods, and we had neither a  TV nor even a radio. Didn't want to tempt myself to get involved in politics ever again, you know? - Ah, no, you wouldn't know." He scratched his head. "This is awkward. Do you know what a mutant is?"

The man's frowning eyebrows smoothed out, curiosity now lighting up his face. "Heard of 'em. Didn't used to exist when I was little, but I got a briefing, I think a few missions ago... You got special powers?"

Erik waved a hand and a metal tool came flying and bumped harmlessly against the stranger's arm.

"That is so cool!" Suddenly, the brutal killer had turned into a delighted teenager. "What else can you do?"

Erik playfully moved  the metal arm. 

The man's face shut down completely as he was suddenly right in Erik's face, the flesh hand closing around Erik's throat. "Let go. Now!" he hissed.

Erik could have had the metal hand attack the man, but he chose not to. Letting go of the arm, he forced out the words: "Sorry. My bad."

The man let go of him. "Do not  _ ever _ do that again!" he growled menacingly. Any curiosity about Erik's powers was gone and all that was left was the mistrust of the deeply  traumatized.

Erik should have realized that with his background, this man had had quite enough of being manipulated by other people. Showing him that Erik could control his arm must be a further blow to his already damaged sense of autonomy. 

Slowly stepping back, Erik raised his hands in surrender. "I am really sorry. I didn't think. It was not my intention to threaten or manipulate you. Please believe m-"

The man  _ attacked  _ him! 

Startled, Erik jumped aside, evading  rather than stopping  the metal arm suddenly coming down right where he had - oh. Coming down to smash into Marek, who had managed to step around Erik's metal scrap while his attention was  focused on the stranger. 

"Careless," the man remarked, lowering a groaning Marek to the floor.

"You are right," Erik said, recovering quickly from the flash of adrenaline. "Thank you."

"Welcome," the man drawled. "So. Your name is Magneto and you have power over metal."

"It's Erik, actually," Erik said, surprising himself. But, why not? "Erik Lehnsherr." He held out his hand.

The man took it with his human hand and shook. "James," he introduced himself. "James Buchanan Barnes, of the 107th... That is. Umh. Not anymore. But, I guess I am still from Brooklyn?"

He seemed rather unsure of himself.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Barnes," Erik said. He didn't know what to make of the stranger's look at his words until Barnes put a name to what was bothering him: "Bucky. I think. Please call me Bucky."

"That is an unusual choice of  nickname," Erik said. He thought he'd read it in a history book somewhere, but couldn't be sure. 

"It's what my best friend used to call me."

No arguing with a best friend's privilege. Bucky it was.

"So. I suppose we should get going." He looked around at the other men still standing at frightened attention. Suddenly, he felt exhausted and just so _done_ with it all. 

Bucky was eyeing him sideways. "I hate to ask," he said slowly, "but would you terribly mind not killing them?"

Erik's shoulders straightened. He had just considered that himself, but now that Bucky was saying it, he somehow felt deprived. Rather aggressively, he asked: "What's it to you?"

The man  Bucky honest-to-god blushed. "I... I am trying not to murder innocents any more, not if I can help it. - I have no compunctions about evil Hydra bastards, obviously." Obviously. Anyone who'd seen him torture Jakub could attest to that. "But innocent civilians? Never by choice."

His eyes had a rather lost look in them as he turned to Erik. "My... my best friend. Steve. He's a good guy, you know? He told me he loved me even as I was  _killing_ him. I kinda owe it to him to be a better person now that I actually  _can._ So I... I shouldn't let you kill people, I think."

Erik stared at him. "You killed your best friend?"  He thought of accidentally  redirecting a bullet right at Charles  and how incredibly guilty he still felt about that. That shot could easily have killed him,  too. 

"Tried, anyway. Tough little bastard survived, though, as always." Judging by his tone and the fond look creeping up on his face while he wasn't paying attention, Bucky was  a lot more  attached to said friend  than his words let on. "I shot him several times, punched his face in, strangled him and dropped him in a river." Ignoring the strangled mutterings of disbelief all around, he went on: "Admittedly, I fished him out again. But, you know. The rest of it he healed himself."

Erik stared harder. "Your friend is a mutant?"

"Heh. No. He's Captain America."


	2. Dating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please assume for the sake of this story that Magneto's powers are a bit less overwhelming than what was shown in recent movies. ; )

Bucky Barnes was a fascinating person. Erik did not regret sparing the life of the mine workers since it bought him the company of this complex individual who, while being fairly lost himself, still had a mission, a purpose in life. Erik liked that. He needed something to distract himself from the death of his family. Killing everyone who might have betrayed him sounded like a good idea at the time, but he was fairly certain not only would it have failed to distract him for more than the few minutes it took, but he also likely would have ended up regretting it.

Joining a brain-washed super-soldier with a _metal_ arm on his mission to fight an evil Nazi organisation seemed like a much better waste of his time. Erik really didn't have anything better to do, and once they started seriously attacking Hydra bases, he even allowed that it was _fun._

“This way,” Erik yelled over the garbled dying sounds of a Hydra tech Bucky had in a choke-hold. “There's a large concentration of metal on the other side of this wall.”

One thing he liked about Bucky was that the man was honest in his actions, and very straight-forward. Facing the wall with his head cocked at a pensive angle, he contracted his metal fingers. The now headless technician crumbled to the floor as Bucky strode forward and simply put his metal fist through the wall. “Yep, the interesting stuff's though there,” he confirmed after peeking through the hole he had made. “Give me a hand?”

Erik ripped out a metal pillar with his powers and used it like a crowbar to widen the hole in the concrete. Then he held the enemy fire while Bucky stepped on through. Together, they made short work of the Hydra minions in that room before focusing on the contents.

As before, Bucky started ripping cloth and plastic covers off of strange-looking equipment, obviously looking for something, though he did not tell Erik what it was. Meanwhile, Erik headed for the computers lining the walls. Erik had only fleeting knowledge of the subject matter, but under Bucky's tutelage, he was quickly catching up. He was in the middle of pulling an intriguing file labelled “Insight II” when a mechanical voice burst into the room.

"Желание.”

A glance showed him that Bucky had turned white,  staring in horror at some elaborate chair he had just uncovered. 

“Ржaвый.”

Bucky jumped up, frantically searching around the room. “The speaker! Where's the goddamn speaker?”

Eric focused, but could not locate the construction amongst the confusing heaps of tech in this lab. Meanwhile, Bucky was firing randomly at the corners of the room and emitting a continuous tortured scream.

“Bucky, what's going on??” Erik yelled over the noise. The man was very obviously not okay, but Erik did not get why.

“Trigger words,” Bucky paused long enough to enlighten him, “to bring me back under their control.”

“Permanently?” Erik asked, shocked. His hand rose unbidden to clutch at the helmet he had recovered before they started on this latest mission. No-one should ever get to mess with another person's mind!

“If they get me into this -” Bucky tilted his head towards the intimidating-looking chair he had uncovered while firing another salvo at random “- soon after, then pretty much yes.”

“Well shit.”

Erik watched as Bucky's eyes rolled in panic – only to suddenly stop as the mechanical voice fell silent. The tension seemed to drain out of the man's body, he assumed an alert but still position, feet slightly apart, hands loosely fisted at his sides with the weapon hanging down at an innocuous angle, head lowered to the point where his bangs hid his eyes.

Then that head was slowly raised and Erik gulped audibly at the dead-eyed stare on his new friend's face. The speaker said a few more words in Russian, and Bucky answered in the same language, voice as dead as the look in his eyes.

The next words from the staticky electronic voice were definitely an order, one which Bucky acknowledged with a monosyllabic reply before suddenly bursting into action.

“Bucky!” Erik just had time to yell before the brainwashed super-soldier's weapon was directly in his face. Erik had no time to think, he just reacted. All the ammunition quietly dropped out the front of the weapon before the solider had a chance to pull the trigger. And the metal arm attacked its bearer.

Erik was not proud of all he had done, but he did have a certain pride in how efficient he was at disarmament. In 0.7 seconds flat, his opponent lay before him unarmed and unconscious, knocked out by his own arm.

“My, my, my,” the electronic voice droned, “you are every bit as strong as I have been told, Mr. Lehnsherr.” It was said in German and for some reason, the tone of that voice caused Erik to shiver.

“We have quite the conundrum, though. You see, I need a strong fighter for my cause, and you have just disabled the best that was available to me.”

“He never belonged to you,” Erik hissed. “You forced him.”

“As I said,” the voice insisted, “available.”

Erik snarled.

“While you appear to be stronger than the Asset, you are also less available to me. I believe that breaking you would take as much time as it did with him, and I simply cannot afford that at this point. So that leaves us with two options.”

“Oh really?” Erik asked, still scanning the room with his metal sense in search of the source of that voice. “And what would those be?”

“It is quite simple,” the voice smugly proclaimed. “You can either join me of your own free will-”

Erik sneered.

“- or you can force me to admit that the Asset is lost to me, in which case I will need to explode this facility with the both of you inside.”

Erik's eyes widened. He frantically searched the room and its surroundings for explosives, but they did not always contain easily recognizable metal components and he was once again left floundering. It could be an empty threat, or this entire place might be about to blow. He really, really hoped that the other was bluffing.

Time to find out.

“And with yourself inside?” he inquired politely.

A tinny laugh answered him.

Right.

Helpless anger directed him to do what he should have done from the beginning: Snatching up his usb stick and stepping close to Bucky, he sent out a wave of energy that shook every piece of metal in a thirty foot radius. Any metal connection less than an inch in diameter broke or was torn loose. The mechanical laughter cut off abruptly. The light failed, leaving them in total darkness.

“Great.”

Not all explosives involved metal. Erik assumed if the voice hadn't been bluffing, the building was about to blow up around his ears. So he commandeered a few larger metal parts to carry Bucky along and got the fuck out of there. The moment he cleared the entrance of the facility, he wrapped his arms around the still unconscious Bucky and lifted them both into the air.

An almighty _BOOM!_ announced the end of the Hydra lab below them right before a shock wave took hold of Erik and catapulted him several dozen yards further up into the air. That shouldn't have been a problem normally. But with the explosion dispersing all the metal on the ground, Erik was left floundering for purchase. They hovered, then dropped ten yards before he caught himself again, hovered again as he scrambled for a better hold on Bucky's body, then they were yanked sideways by a few yards and down another forty.

Bucky chose mid-fall to come back to consciousness.

“What…?!”

“Shut up and hold on.”

Bucky reflexively did, and even while he was desperately trying to regain his bearings, Erik secretly enjoyed the sensation of being held by Bucky.

“You back to your own mind, Barnes?”

“I… yes. But what…?”

“The lab blew up,” Erik explained while Bucky gave a wide-eyed stare down at the far-off ground. “I just so got us out and up, but now I don't have enough metal to really hold on to down there.”

“Pal. You can fly??”

Erik caught them again and established a fragile balance yet again. Panting from the effort, he tried to make sense of Bucky's words. “Huh? Oh, that's right.” _Deep breath._ “You haven't actually seen me do this before.” _Slowly lower them another few yards._ “Well, yes – I can.”

“How?”

Erik counter-acted another plummeting spell before he answered. “I'm like a magnet, I can pull or push metal. Right now, I'm pushing against the metal below.” That was a vastly simplified explanation, but under the circumstances – they dropped another ten or so feet before he caught himself again – Erik thought it was fairly brilliant.

Bucky though was looking at the colourful inferno raging where the lab used to be. “So our not becoming a smear on the ground depends on you finding enough solid metal in that mess to push off from?”

A humongous length of rebar surfaced from the flames, broke with an audible _crack_ and vanished back into a spot of green and violet flames.

“Very much so.” Erik said, voice strained.

“Huh.”

They dropped again. The ground rushed towards them at a frightening pace.

“It was good knowing you, pal,” Bucky said quite serenely.

“Yeah, you too,” Erik answered reflexively while wondering if this was really it, he was going to be splattered all over the concrete parking lot in front of the lab in ten… nine… eight…

“Hey, you guys need a hand?”

There was a man with wings flying toward them, nearly invisible against the dark night sky. Erik stared. Another mutant?

He thought he heard Bucky groan before clutching him tighter.

The winged man didn't seem stymied by their lack of enthusiasm. He managed to surpass the speed of their fall and get underneath them. Then he took hold of Bucky and carefully slowed their descent.

Despite the startling appearance of Winged Guy, Erik had kept reaching for the metal below him, and just as it looked like even with the aid of Wings they wouldn't make it, he struck gold - steel, really - and stabilized all three of them, taking a hold of the surprisingly _metal_ wings the moment he had a solid grip on matters below.

Wings gave an astonished grunt, but kept gripping Bucky tightly. Erik freed the wings as soon as everyone was stable about five yards from the ground and threw the man an apologetic glance over one shoulder. Together, the three of them finally touched down at a safe distance from the burning lab. Wings let go and stepped back at once.

Bucky didn't.

Neither did Erik.

They slowly raised their heads to look at each other.

“Eh,” Erik said.

“Yep,” said Bucky.

Then they kissed.


	3. Meeting the Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam POV.
> 
> I apologize in advance for the fluff and potentially over-the-top cheesiness. I just don't seem capable of mentioning Steve Rogers without getting him involved with someone.

“Woah.” Sam had known for a while now that hanging out with Captain America would lead him into some crazy situations. But seeing the Winter Solider kissing the stuffing out of another guy was still a bit of a surprise.

“Sam, are you alright? Sam!” Steve finally came running out of the woods where Sam had left him to do some aerial recon. His ground-eating steps came to an abrupt stop as he caught sight of the two men next to Sam. “Wait. Is that…?”

“U-hun.”

“Huh.”

Sam withdrew the wings into his pack and crossed his arms. “Think you might be right that he really broke his conditioning.”

“Yeah…” Steve looked dazed and was wavering slightly on his spot as though ready to keel over. However, Sam noticed a grin slowly spreading on his face, growing into a full-blown ecstatic smile. “Buck…!”

Finally, the kissing couple took note of them. The guy with the helmet was the first to look over and loosen the embrace. Sam thought he heard him murmur something like “Bucky, we got company.”

Barnes grumbled a little, but then also loosened his strangle-hold on his...partner's?… hips.

“Hi, Stevie,” he said, looking bashful.

“Steve Rogers?” the other man said. “A pleasure to meet you. I've heard a lot about you.” He stuck out his hand, and Steve, still smiling like a loon, gave it a hearty shake. “My name is Erik Lehnsherr,” the stranger continued.

Sam choked. “Magneto?”

Now the other man also looked bashful. “Well, yes.”

Barnes stepped in front of the man. “Got a problem with that?” he asked, aggressively. Although, once his attention was fully on Sam, he blanched. “Um. I… Sorry for Washington.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Apology accepted. Although I think Steve deserves an apology much more than I do.”

He stepped back and let the two men confront each other.

The smile on Steve's face – god help him! - had only slightly diminished, and Barnes was actually sporting a crooked one himself, by now.

“Hey there, punk,” were his first words.

“Hey yourself, jerk,” Steve answered. This exchange was not an apology, but also not entirely unexpected after the stories Steve had told him about the Brooklyn of old. His next words were, though. “So much for 'no you really weren't looking at my skinny arse all that time'.”

Barnes looked mildly apologetic, but not truly ashamed. “Guilty as charged. It was a fine piece of ass, even then.” Then he shot a sly look at Sam. “And I guess you also never _really_ meant to spy on me when I wanked, huh?”

Steve blushed spectacularly and tried to shush Barnes. “Buck, don't! We're really just friends.”

Barnes tilted his head. “Tough luck, pal.”

Wait. Were those two saying what Sam thought they were saying? “Steve?”

The red hue to the super-soldier's face darkened to a disturbingly unhealthy level. “I… um… Sorry, Sam. I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I know it's supposedly acceptable nowadays, but that doesn't mean you want to be sharing a motel room with a guy like me every night, right? I really should have told you. I am so sorry-”

Sam held up both hands to stop Steve's stumbling monologue. “Wait, wait, wait. Let me get this straight.” He looked at Barnes, who sniggered at his wording. “You both kinda fancied each other back in the day and never did anything about it?”

Barnes gave a crooked grin. “Looks like it.”

Sam looked at Steve. “What about Agent Carter?”

The blush faded a little. “What about her? I do believe they call it 'bisexual' nowadays, Sam. I know you've heard of it, since you were there when Tony insisted on giving me The Talk.” Once more, the blush deepened.

Sam felt his own cheeks heating. That had been a thoroughly embarrassing ordeal. For Steve. But even witnessing it had felt… wrong, despite the delicious schadenfreude.

“So. You both fancy men, and Steve also likes women.” Sam looked questioningly at Barnes and got a smirking nod in return, as well as a sly "He's not the only one." It seemed like Barnes was entirely happy to just stand next to the burning Hydra facility holding hands with _Magneto_ – and how had that happened?! - while Sam tried to get his head around the fact that Captain America was gay. Well, bisexual.

Sam could work with that.

Focusing solely on Steve now, he asked: “Did you not tell me you liked men because you do fancy me or because you don't? And don't you dare lie to me now, Rogers!”

Steve was sweating and looked all of five inches tall – which was an entirely ridiculous look, considering his actual size. Sam thought it was adorable. He told his emotions firmly to shut up and tried to keep up the expectant glower.

Luckily, Steve was too preoccupied with his own dilemma, likely trying to guess which answer would offend Sam the least, to notice Sam's glitches.

“I… I am...” Those ridiculously wide shoulders straightened and Sam was almost willing to bet that Magneto would be able to influence Steve if he stood just a little straighter – there must be metal involved somewhere in that rigid posture. Then Steve's deeply sincere eyes focused on Sam's and all thoughts of Magneto and posturing were blown out of his mind by that intense gaze.

“I do 'fancy you', Sam.”

He blinked.

Looked at the couple holding hands next to them.

Watched Steve gnaw his lower lip in uncertainty.

“Well, good,” he finally concluded. “Why did you never say so?”

He took Steve's hand and pulled him close. They were standing nose to nose, now, Sam looking up a little to keep the eye contact. “Kiss me?”

“Sam? I… yes!” That beaming smile was back, right before their mouths met and Steve's lips had better things to do.

“Way to butt in on our conversation,” he heard Barnes grumbling good-naturedly in the background. “Hey Steve,” the man then hollered. “We okay? I mean I did shoot you and all… Apology accepted?”

Sam blinked one eye open to see Steve extending his hand in a one-finger salute toward his best friend, never interrupting the kiss.

Barnes laughed. “Gotcha.”


	4. Armed Non-Combat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the chapter that will - hopefully - do justice to the tags. Also, there'll be a tiny epilogue.

 

After that meeting, all of their lives changed drastically.

Everyone was still out to get Hydra, but now they did it together, with the occasional support of the other Avengers, coordinated from and based off of Stark's tower. Erik got into some altercations with Stark, of course, when it turned out that Stark had trouble coming up with an alloy that Erik couldn't influence. Iron Man felt understandably vulnerable with him around.

Bucky, on the other hand, had vastly relaxed with the discovery that not only did he have Steve as backup, but he could also trust Erik to reel him back in easily should someone yell those trigger words at him. The initial faux-pas of Erik controlling his arm had turned into an odd sort of safety blanket.

At night, though, after they tumbled about the sheets for an hour or two, Bucky sometimes lay awake thinking about what else Erik might be able to do with his arm. Erik kept his powers strictly out of their bedroom, not wanting to spook Bucky in an intimate moment. But he sometimes threw speculative looks at the arm. When Bucky caught him out, he always blushed and looked away, never noticing Bucky's growing interest.

Finally, Bucky's curiosity bubbled over.

They'd just returned from a successful raid on a prominent Hydra base in Algiers and had a few days off until the Widow verified Bucky's information on another base somewhere deep in the Canadian woods. Bucky'd had food and a shower and was just kicking his heels waiting for Erik to finish his turn in the bathroom. He lay in a comfortable spot of sunlight on their sofa in Stark tower, dressed in nothing but a loose pair of jogging pants, enjoying the left-over adrenaline from the fight humming through his body.

He idly trailed the fingers of his right hand across the material covering his crotch and fantasized about Erik using his metal arm to handcuff him to the bed. If Erik made him clutch his right hand with his left and kept a hold of the metal, Bucky would be literally at his mercy. Different from the first day of their acquaintance, the idea no longer scared him. Instead, the adrenaline level in his blood stream seemed to increase, joined by some other happy sex hormones Bucky had not bothered to learn the names of during his recent reading-up on science and history.

Modern science-fiction was more fun than factual biology, anyway.

Erik emerged fully dressed from the bathroom in a cloud of steam. "Hey, have you seen my..? Oh." He stopped, staring at the pose Bucky had struck, slouching half-naked on the sofa with his knees apart, one hand trailing through his crotch, the other spread on the back of the sofa, and smirking at Erik with eyes sparkling underneath his lashes.

"What are you up to, Barnes?" Erik asked as he stalked closer. Every fibre of his body exuded power and control. Bucky was mesmerized.

"I am feeling a bit off," Bucky drawled, "help me, doctor. I think I need you to lay your hands on me." He nodded at the laptop sat on one arm of the sofa and displaying a Wikipedia article about Mesmerism.

_"… At the time, some magnetizers attempted to channel what they thought was a magnetic "fluid", and sometimes they attempted this with a "[laying on of hands](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laying_on_of_hands)". Reported effects included various feelings: intense heat, trembling, trances, and seizures.[[9]](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Animal_magnetism#cite_note-9) …"_

"Think your magnetic fluid can heal me?" He lasciviously licked his lips and saw a small shudder go through Erik.

"It is certainly worth a try," Erik allowed with a rough voice.

"There is no try. Do," Bucky quoted, dead-pan.

Erik raised an eye-brow at him. "I feel like you might not be taking your ailment with the required seriousness, young man."

Bucky's eyes turned hard. "I am taking this very seriously," he said, staring straight at Erik and enunciating clearly so there would be no mistake. "I want you to unleash the full range of your magnetic abilities on me." He flexed his metal arm on the back of the sofa.

Erik's eyes narrowed in turn. "Are you quite sure that is what you want?"

Bucky gave a firm nod and decided to add some verbal confirmation to be sure. "Yes. Use your powers on me. Safeword is 'Hydra'." He brought the metal arm to join the flesh one in his lap. Looking down at it, he said: "Go ahead and take this, it's all yours." Deciding there'd been enough seriousness for one evening, he added: "I know you want to," a dare obvious in the look he threw Erik.

Erik gave him a slow, dangerous smile. "You have no idea how much."

The next thing Bucky knew, wires and metal gadgets were whooshing through the apartment from every direction to restrain him and lift him up. He tried to struggle and found out that Erik was allowing him some wriggle room, but not enough to prevent him from getting carried off to their bedroom by Erik's metal. His left arm was useless dead weight in all this, which was frightening and exciting in equal measure. Erik was taking control.

Bucky came down in the middle of the bed after Erik had stripped all the blankets and pillows from it. A couple of clothes pins attacked his pants and pulled them off him, followed by his underwear. Another couple made straight for his chest and attached themselves to his nipples with a sharp click. He moaned.

Then his eyes widened in astonishment when the things opened and closed again, like they were _nibbling_ on him! He looked at Erik in disbelief.

"Do you even know what you signed up for?" Erik asked, shaking his head like a demanding teacher faced with a particularly slow student.

Bucky answered with a "Ghg!", which was highly articulate seeing as some plastic object presumably containing metal had inserted itself into his mouth and was effectively gagging him.

"Yes, that's what I thought," Erik smirked and got another dozen clothes pins to attack Bucky's arms, inner thighs and finally his balls. The "Bullshit buzzer" Tony had given him for his last appearance in front of the press hovered over and attached itself to the bed frame next to where Bucky's right hand had gotten tied up. "Push that for me if anything is wrong, will you?"

Bucky nodded, then moaned around what he thought might be a remote control in his mouth as it started slowly pushing against his throat, then pulling out again. He'd never had his mouth fucked by a _remote control_ before, and it really shouldn't have been such a turn-on.

An all-too-familiar clicking noise startled Bucky. His eyes had fallen closed somewhere during the proceedings. He opened them now to see Erik standing over him with a digicam in hand, smirking as he said: "For my private collection."

Bucky tried to growl at him, but the remote chose that moment to push forward again and his growl turned into a pathetic garbled whine.

Stark had managed to insulate their entire apartment in a similar fashion to the helmet so Erik could be comfortable at home. Erik was now standing over Bucky in just a T-shirt and dark jeans. Bucky whined again, wanting him to strip, but having no way to communicate his desire.

Erik laughed at him and flicked a few tiny magnetic marbles off a shelf. They landed at the base of Bucky's dick, spreading out around it, then slowly rolling up in sync.  Attracting each other, they put considerable pressure on the organ separating them. Bucky's eyes fluttered closed  on another moan.

He was startled when the bed dipped beside him and he suddenly felt Erik above him. Before he really knew what was going on, the remote roughly exited his mouth and was replaced with hot flesh. Bucky's eyes flew open and fell on Erik, still in his jeans and T-shirt, but with the zipper open, kneeling above him and feeding him his cock.  The blood pumped hot through Bucky's veins and his whole body felt  like a live wire. 

Then his arm moved.

It was a weird sensation. It was clearly his arm, he felt the connection, felt the neural implants firing and informing him of where the limb was going and what it was touching: his own dick. But it was not him controlling it, and he had no idea what it would do next.

What it did do was firmly wrap around his straining erection once the magnets had fallen away, and start stroking it.

It was not how he did it himself, even when he was using his left hand. It also wasn't how Erik did it, most notably because the hand was Bucky's. It was... alien, and disconcerting. And very, very hot. Especially since Erik had now taken hold of Bucky's head with both hands and started fucking his throat in earnest.

It was a lot to take in, both literally and figuratively, and Bucky was confused for a moment whether to recoil from it or demand more. A spasm went through his body, followed by the realization that he was now so tied up and weighted down that he had literally _no_ wriggle room left, except for his right hand next to the buzzer; his twitching ended in a porn-worthy moan around Erik's withdrawing length.

Erik laughed darkly and pushed in again, making Bucky choke, leaking tears from his eyes and slick from his cock. Erik started fucking his face in earnest now, still fully dressed. It was the most indecent, decadent sex they'd ever had, and Bucky loved every minute of it. After a few more moments, Erik's breathing turned ragged and Bucky knew he was close. He whined.

Erik smirked down at him, raised one eyebrow and pushed in once more. At the same time, the clamps all over Bucky's body stopped nibbling and bit down hard. His own metal hand started stripping his cock furiously, and something wickedly pointy attacked the soles of his feet.

Erik's cock slipped out of his mouth. Bucky screamed - and came. At the same time, he felt hot come splattering his face. 

He groaned and tugged at the wires securing his right hand. All at once, the heaps of metal retreated from the bed, leaving him with just Erik sitting on his chest, caressing his face and carefully wiping away the spunk.

Bucky just lay there panting for a couple of minutes. Then he grabbed Erik by the hips and rolled them until he was lying on top of his lover.

"Okay. That was..."

Erik cocked his head at him. "Don't say you didn't enjoy it." A hand slipped between their bodies to wipe at the come on Bucky's thighs.

Bucky gave him a smile that probably would have screamed utterly stoned drug addict at Erik if the man didn't know Bucky lived clean. "That was fucking genius," he corrected. "You should be a conductor, man."

"Come again?"

"No, I'm tired," Bucky joked. "But seriously, pal, the way you can keep track of so many things going on at once and not make one single mistake - that's really impressive. You should totally conduct an orchestra. Imagine, you could have a different metal baton for each instrument, waving them around in all the different gestures at once..."

"You are off in your own space, aren't you?" Erik asked softly.

"A little, maybe," Bucky allowed. He didn't need to make sense right now. He needed to enjoy the after-glow. Snuggling closer to Erik, he had a moment's realization that the other man was still fully dressed and had even zipped up again. A happy shudder went through him and he clutched tightly at the man lying underneath him. "You're a filthy pervert, you know that?"

He could hear the proud grin even through his once again closed eyes. "It's been said."

"And I love you, you know that too, right?"

"Love you too, perv."

Bucky's last impression before settling in for a nap was that of a meat fork furtively retreating to the kitchen. Wriggling his stung feet in belated disbelief, he laughed and snuggled into Erik.

Weird. But in a good way.


	5. Epilogue

"The 'Avengers', Erik, really?"

"Well," the man said examining his nails, "at least this time I am not attacking innocents. Innocent by your definition, anyway."

The other man sighed. "And I suppose since the Accords fell through and no-one had the guts to seriously forbid the Avengers from continuing their vigilantism after the latest alien attack, you are even somewhat within the laws."

"Tolerated, anyway," Erik confirmed.

Charles Xavier leant back in his chair with a sigh. "Avengers, really," he grumbled. But then he straightened up again and his expression warmed considerably. "I am glad that you are alright, old friend."

"So am I. It is good to see you, Charles."

Charles smiled. "Now that we got that out of the way: Who are your friends?" His eyes turned questioningly at the two other men and one woman all wearing chunky helmets blocking him out.

"Allow me to make introductions," Erik said smoothly. He gestured at the man sitting on his right wearing a long-sleeved shirt despite the summer heat. "This is Bucky Barnes, who might profit from your expertise concerning some issues with his brain." Then he gestured to his left. "These are Tony Stark and Dr. Helen Cho -" both of them gave polite waves - "who may in turn have some ideas concerning issues with the parts of you that are not all brain..."

 

_\- The End -_

  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, folks. Thanks for reading! : )


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